


To Convince

by Ydream08



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: EWE, F/M, HP - Freeform, LOTR, PWP, Sex, Smut, World Travel, adult!Hermione
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 04:10:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20576231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ydream08/pseuds/Ydream08
Summary: When she misplaced her foot and the pain blurred her vision, the world tilted on its axis. Sure enough, the next moment, Hermione Granger was in a war that was not taking place in Hogwarts. In between all that, she saved Haldir, the March Warden of Lothlorien. The Elf alive unlike in the story, convincing him that the War of the Ring did not need his aid was another thing...





	To Convince

Her wand sharp and quick, Hermione Granger engaged in a skirmish once again side by side with Harry and Ron.

After the Second Wizarding War, the young witch had envisioned a much more peaceful life for herself, but with Harry and Ron signing up for being Aurors, and herself mastering on Charms, Hermione indeed found herself in tight situations.

Admittingly, getting a Charms thesis was nowhere near dangerous. All she had done so far was visit countries abroad famed for archiving magical knowledge, study their records for ancient magic, focusing on Charms generally, and collect her findings in articles to share. At age twenty-five, Hermione even had published a book, "Charms of the Old Ages: A Collection" which compiled a list of spells, their origins, definitions and uses and many more practical information about them so that those spells could be revived for day-to-day application.

None of them she could use the at the moment, however.

Hermione changed between offensive and defensive spells she was used from the war. Somethings could never be forgotten, she guessed.

"Hermione, I'm off after Dolohov!" yelled Ron. Hermione didn't have the opportunity to glance back at Ron, who, by the noises she surmised, was now banging open doors and breathlessly running after the stray Death Eater who had escaped capture so long.

Harry was not far behind, as Hermione could tell from the shoutings of the two friends on how they should make chase of the Death Eater.

In her distraction, Hermione barely ducked from a spell that would have surely collided with her chest. She immediately erected her shield, but in the effort of doing so she misplaced her footing and sprained her ankle.

Bloody Aurors and their chase, Hermione thought, cursing each time that she had been caught at Harry and Ron's tasks that seemed to never end even when they called it a day.

Of course, there was also the setback that her two best friends always came for her to consult. Especially on tracking charms.

That was the gist of how she was now duelling with some masked wizard, who was obviously confirmed to be aiding Antonin Dolohov hiding in an abandoned farmhouse where Hermione's tracking spell had lead the three friends, now waiting for backup from Aurors.

They better come quickly, Hermione thought as she saw the door from which Harry and Ron exited, rushed in two new buddies of her opponent.

Hermione had no time to think, less pray at least her friends would come if not the backup Aurors, before she saw all together three wands emitting a tell-tale green light.

"_Protego_!" she shouted, forcing all her magic behind that one simple word, concentrating so that the bright shield would thicken and spread, protect her from all vantage points.

Perhaps it was because she was half-on the ground, one ankle sprained and her wand-arm raised diagonally, or perhaps it was because her head throbbed with exhaustion -she was spent both physically and magically- that she felt an uneasy tilt of the ground. Her world seemed to shift.

It didn't last longer than a heartbeat, but that was enough to remind Hermione that no Avada Kedavra has been evaded by simple protection charms.

With that thought in mind, Hermione wondered if she should risk a blind Disapparation, but all the choices were taken from her when a heavy force rebounded from her shield at the same moment something else collapsed on her.

Hermione had the half-mind to steady her footing, bearing the weight of whoever that had collapsed on her, and it was indeed a person.

She hissed at the pain of her ankle, but there was a far more pressing matter.

It was as if she had resurfaced from staying in water: after a long while of having her hearing clogged and sight blurred, Hermione's senses sharpened and she was assaulted by every stimulation.

Smoke and acid burned her nose, as the distinct but densified smell of blood and gore churned her stomach. There were shouts, grunts and cries, from people and beasts alike. Hermione could have sworn she heard a troll, but none of them had ever been close to human proximity after the Battle so it was nigh impossible. Then, she recognized the clash of metal on metal, also sound of collision followed by stones splitting into pieces: walls crumbling down similar to how it had happened at Hogwarts too.

Hermione yelped when her weakened shield was stricken again– and to Hermione's horror, she saw over the shoulder of the person who had fallen on her, that it was a hammer attacking her shield instead of any spell, wielded by the most vile and horrible creature she had ever seen. Hermione's quick glance around revealed that it was one of the many that were cutting through soldiers with various weapons. There were no guns; but blades, swords, axes, hammers and anything sharp.

Whatever the creature was, it was humanoid, yes, but with its aggression and visible thirst for blood, Hermione didn't stop to give it chance to cut _her_ in half.

This was a war, she concluded. A battle she had somehow found herself in the middle of, and very much unlike the duel she had moments ago.

Shifting her weight and securing the injured man she was carrying, Hermione held out her wand and swished quickly.

"BOMBARDA!"

The creature that attacked her was blasted off its feet and many more followed that were in the vicinity, and all fell off the wall where Hermione realized that she was standing by. Unfortunately, the hole in the creature flow she created was not permanent. New ones were coming, climbing the wall, swinging their weapons to find flesh regardless of the target. It was miracle they didn't attack each other.

Hermione continued a set of offensive spells all the while maintaining her shield.

"Haldir! Fall back!" yelled a man. At the familiar name Hermione inadvertently glanced back to the source of the voice to notice his gaze locked with hers.

The man was stricken with shock, confused and wordless. Then, he shook away his freeze to continue shouting his words ("Fall back!") even while he cleaved opponents with two swords.

Hermione didn't have the leisure to watch the man fight as there were many more creatures wanting a piece of her. However, from her peripheral vision she could see him proceed to make his way towards her.

Her left shoulder and arm felt numb due to the weight of the injured man she was carrying, and she decided it was better to take cover than continue this. The man didn't make any sound of hurt either, which was concerning as she hoped it wouldn't mean he was beyond saving.

Hermione sent another _Bombarda_ so she could have a few moments clear of the creatures.

She struggled to put the man down slowly, but it was harder a task than she thought because she was injured herself. Regardless of her care, the two of them fell in a heap and Hermione groaned at the impact.

How comical was it that among all that chaos the first thing Hermione noticed was how handsome the man was. His face was proportional and cut with harsh yet masterful lines in a way that seemed unnatural, yet felt perfect. Surprisingly, his blond hair was long, a fashion she had never seen in anyone but the elder Malfoy. A poor resemblance that she could look past easily because guiltily she would admit it looked quite endearing.

To her utter horror, Hermione noticed the man was bleeding. So she stopped gazing and assessed the damage. She couldn't be sure of the state of his wound because of his armour, but blood oozed from around his abdomen. He was hopefully passed out, so a few spells to patch him up would make him brand new.

At that moment came the man who had been shouting to fall back, and he fell to his knees next to us.

"Haldir, Haldir!" he shook the blond man on the ground. Haldir, so he was called, didn't stirr.

Hermione looked away, not because of the likely bad news, but because war cries from those filthy creatures rose again.

A new flock of them was swarming to where they were, and if they stayed longer, they would learn how swift their weapons were.

Hermione turned to look around, watching as soldiers backed away to the safety of inner walls. Where this man had shouted to take shelter, Hermione guessed as she glanced back at the black haired man.

It was a split second decision–

"Hold on tight," she said as she grabbed the man after looping Haldir's arm in her own.

Wand in hand, they Disapparated.

* * *

"It's normal to vomit," Hermione told the black haired man as she listened to him retch. Her attention was on Haldir, though.

She flicked her wand to vanish Haldir's armor. Underneath, a chainmail covered his broad torso but the protective layer was torn in the side where the spear must have pierced through. Hermione's hesitation didn't last long as she could see blood stain on his tunic: she carefully hitched the garments to reveal the man's wound. The fabric got caught in clots to which Hermione winced, she could guess the pain Haldir was in; lucky that he had passed out.

"Wait—" came a male voice, but the retching prevented the sentence from fully forming.

"Are you alright? I'm sorry that I didn't warn you." Hermione spared a glance at the other man again, and scrunched her face. The smell of vomit was the only absent scent among everything– had been at least.

"Aragorn!" came a voice, its owner rushing to the black haired man first, who was kneeling on the ground still vacating the content of his stomach. First time Apparition sure is not a fun experience.

It didn't escape Hermione's notice, however, that the new arrival was blond with long hair to boot, but she dismissed the observation in favour of attending Haldir.

There was a gash in his lower abdomen, the right side, and likely it was the most alarming of his injuries. With that in mind, she overlooked the bruises and cuts.

Opening her small waist bag that was -thank Merlin- still secured in place, Hermione procured some Dittany. Heftily applying it to the wound, she coupled it with a spell try and close the wound. It didn't work as she hoped. The potion hissed and bubbled on Haldir's injured skin and her stitching spell came loose. She cast the spell again, and this time it was better, not perfect as it was supposed to be though. It was a simple spell, Hermione wondered why it didn't work as well as it had on Harry or Ron, or anyone else really.

She was about to try a different spell when someone spoke:

"I'd suggest you take a step back. It will not be me who is going to be struck if my arrow is sent."

Hermione halted, but was afraid to turn around. Not that she couldn't deflect an arrow - Protego would shield that- but because it wasn't exactly inviting to hear a threat.

"Step back and give your name."

Slowly rising from the ground, she pointed her wand away. "I'm Hermione, Hermione Granger."

"I know no one of that name," the blonde man said.

His suspicious gaze urged Hermione to speak: "I was just helping."

"I saw Haldir battling on his own. An orc got him with a spear; but then, you were there, milady. What is it that you do?" spoke the black haired man, coming next to the blond one who had his bow at the ready. "You made magic– vanished us from the field."

Hermione didn't know what to say. _Orcs_? There were no creatures like that as far as she knew in the magical world. Of course she read of them in fiction books but that was what they were: fantasy. Those creatures she had fought with...could they be Orcs?

Sharing her identity as a witch is another matter altogether. Wielding a wand in sight and Disapparating Muggles definitely didn't help, truth to be told. So Hermione did the most sensible thing:

"Let me help. This man is injured, lost so much blood, but I think I can–"

"I insist that _we_ care for him," the blonde man said. Looking at him, Hermione wondered if he was a relative of Haldir. That would explain his hostility. "I give not an ounce of trust to a witch."

"Legolas, wait." The black haired man said, putting a hand on the blonde's chest. _Legolas? _Hermione read Tolkien of course, and has seen the movies that were aired two years ago, not that this coincidence could be connected. Could it?

She looked back at Haldir, then the blonde man named Legolas. Long blonde hair and ethereal beauty were in common. Thinking of _Elves_ initiated a new surge of headache. Not house-elves, mind you.

The black haired man talked. What had Legolas called him? _Aragorn_. He sighed and said, "What would Gandalf do?"

_Gandalf?_

In Hermione's stupor, Aragorn walked past the blonde called Legolas and stood in front of Hermione. She was forced to tilt her head to look him in the eye; her confusion cleared by his continues searching gaze.

"If I don't help him, he will die," She gritted out, her patience running thin over their stubborness. She could try other spells, or at least disinfect the wound. "I mean no harm to anyone."

Their dispute had to end before Aragorn could reach a conclusion. The battle had progressed and Orcs had infiltrated these walls as well.

Aragorn grabbed Haldir, and with Legolas watching guard, led Hermione inside to the King's courtroom.

Once inside, everything was a blur. Haldir was taken and laid to the side, checked for his vitals and wounds. Hermione was in the earshot when Haldir was deemed tended to and brought here just in time.

"A combat that took longer than it had, and he could have perished," informed one elf. Legolas glanced at Hermione briefly at that, aware that she had been the one to get Haldir out of the battlefield. Legolas grudgingly gave a sharp nod but aside from that ignored her completely.

He wasn't alone in that regard. Aragorn paid Hermione no mind. Nor did the King, Theoden he was called.

Hermione remembered _Lord of the Rings_ enough to know that she had found herself in the fight for the Helm's Deep. She was in Rohan. How in Merlin she had managed to travel to this world in the blink of an eye, she didn't know, assuming she hadn't overslept and was having an avid dream… which was bloody unlikely.

_Changing worlds, however…? _

Those thugs she had been duelling before could not have managed such a steep.

Hermione wished to find out, but perhaps she should research after this battle was over. In the meantime, Hermione wondered how she should tread about this phenomena. In time-traveling, one shouldn't be seen by anyone or intervene in events of high risk. Perhaps she should do the same now.

_But I have already saved Haldir_, Hermione thought. He should have died on that wall. Axed from the back.

She had no more time to mull over this, not in great detail anyway. Sure enough, a few moments later Aragorn had convinced the King to march one last time, cleave the enemy flow through the fast stomps of the horses. All according to the story.

Just as everyone mounted their horses, there came a commotion from where Haldir was. He was thrashing in delirium, and from what a few of the elves were saying, Hermione gathered he had come down with high fever. She didn't understand the rest that was spoken, as it changed to Elvish upon Legolas' arrival.

Hermione had taken a few steps toward them, unthinkingly wanting to lend help, and Legolas seemed to notice as his hard gaze was once again upon hers.

A few words more were spoken, harsh-sounding compared to the Elvish Hermione heard so far, and then Legolas turned to her:

"Your aid, if still available and applicable, will be long remembered as the March Warden of Lothlorien is widely loved. It is our last intent to lose him." Legolas informed.

Hermione nodded immediately, not stretching out the animosity between her and Legolas. He seemed grateful for her eagerness, and for the first time Hermione sensed he felt more than little guilty.

Just then, Hermione came up with idea to remove her and Haldir from the ongoing story of the War of the Ring. As it was supposed to be.

"Legolas," Hermione wanted to strike a deal. The word of the Elven Prince would amount enough come tomorrow. "When this battle is over, I wish to go to Lothlorien. With Haldir. You know, make sure he fully recovers."

She wouldn't outright say she wanted an audience with Lady Galadriel (perhaps she could help Hermione) all the while preventing Haldir from setting a foot from his birthplace. She and him would vanish from the story to minimize the ripple effect she has already caused. Hermione had to make sure nothing had changed.

And if Lady Galadriel couldn't help Hermione return to her own world, Hermione would later on seek Gandalf for consult after the War was over.

Legolas seemed to hesitate but nodded. "If we win, I don't see a reason why not, Lady Hermione."

Hermione stayed silent and went to help Haldir. She didn't mention to him about Gandalf and the Riders of Riddermark who were about to come for their aid.

* * *

Road back to Lothlorien was less comfortable than her days back in the Hunt if that was even possible. She couldn't use a magical tent, so it was sleeping outdoors with a quaint warming spell. Finding loo was impossible as always but unlike in the Hunt she hadn't packed any toilet papers. And the most irritating and unbearable of the hardships was that she couldn't take out her wand and cast protective spells against those orcs (Elves wouldn't take kindly to that, she supposed).

Of course on top of the mess that she had switched to another world, she had to be in mortal danger while hiding her magical identity too.

Hermione had pleaded to Legolas after the battle was over so that she and Haldir could leave Helm's Deep at once. Hermione had not even wanted to linger during the aftermath of the siege lest they changed any event however little.

Elves had regrouped, assessing the damage, burying their dead and tending to their wounded. Though the news of the critical condition of their Warden was worrying, the threat of Mordor was growing, it had been said. So the Rohirrim would get together and be alert for any call for aid by Gondor. Elves of Lothlorien agreed to stay put for some time just in case.

There came in Hermione and her pleading (or nagging). That's how she had convinced Legolas to their haste departure and relented to an elf group of ten to accompany Haldir and her to the Elven forests.

Hermione remembered Elves to be a serene and joyous lot, laughing and singing to spend time. Unfortunately, she did not witness a light mood in their journey. For a few days at the start of their trip, only a male elf named Ialon ever conversed with her. It was not much of a conversation; he simply offered a plate of food at meals.

Learning that Hermione did not know how to ride a horse satisfactorily, Ialon had been chosen to ride with Hermione (and altogether look after her, apparently) and the two of them trailed after Haldir and a young Healer of the Elves.

Haldir had not awoken longer than to ask for water, and his sleeps had hardly calmed in those dreadful couple of days.

When he opened his eyes, more often Hermione was there than the Healer. He was an apprentice, as it turns out, thus Hermione had shifted to a more primary position when it came to the March Warden's health.

"'I feel thirsty'," Haldir would rasp in Elvish which Hermione didn't understand in the beginning, but quickly learned a few words like 'thirsty', 'water', 'cold' and 'tired'.

Haldir's face was cold with sweat, pale and sunken in the mornings. By night he would flare up, toss and turn around. He was exhausted, as a matter of fact, because of his fitless sleeps. He didn't ride a horse, but carrying him by a makeshift hammock between two horses slowed down the party.

Taking care of Haldir, Hermione kept wondering why his state hadn't immediately gotten better. Sadly, her spells worked slowly (if at all) on Haldir, even the one to redo his stitches, and she had suspicion that Dittany somehow cross reacted in his body. The stitched wound had swollen and looked reddish, irritated indeed. Normally Dittany closed a wound in minutes and left a brand new slightly pinkish skin afterwards. His reaction to spells and potions might be because he was an elf, not a witch or wizard; but he seemed to take well to the Sleeping Draught. Thank Merlin for that.

Two hours in Haldir's awful first night on the journey, Hermione started the Sleeping Draught potion in small doses to ease his sleep, and it showed effect right away and Haldir got drastically better on the third day.

His wound was no longer irritated, and his fever had gone as well. Of course, some bruises remained, changing colour as they aged.

Haldir came to himself, too, though he looked hardly able to lift a finger.

His light green eyes that had a golden shine to them found her brown ones, and he silently watched her as she brought a skin of water on his request, his gaze suspicious and full of questions. She couldn't avert her eyes, though.

Although exhausted, the man was admirable. Rare a chance it was to see a face like that. And his eyes, Hermione had to confess, were so intent and direct, regardless of his distrust.

She tried not to mind, act like he didn't affect her as he did. Preventing her limbs from shaking, she sat next to him to offer the water when he spoke in Common Tongue:

"Who are you?"

Hermione didn't have the chance to answer as Ialon and the elven Healer came rushing past her. The water she had fetched limply remained in her grasp.

Hermione wouldn't be lying to say that Haldir's face lit up like a Christmas tree. His smile reached to his eyes, and how ever much tired he was, he quickly conversed with the two elves (in Elvish, which meant Hermione awkwardly sat there and listened to their gibberish) and, Merlin was witness, he even laughed during their short talk.

It was short because Hermione heard her name being mentioned, to which Haldir swiftly glanced at her. Then they talked curtly and the two elves left Haldir and her alone.

The pregnant silence stretched between them, both observing each other without eyes finding the other. How could Hermione had known his searching gaze? She was focused on his long thin fingers, his bigger hands resting over a sheet of blanket. Following his toned arms, she dared to look over his chest (checking his bandages, as she repeated to herself) but her attention was drawn more to his collarbones, then upwards to his strong jaw and his chapped but distracting lips...

They moved, and Hermione gasped.

"I'd like some water, if it will not be a bother." Haldir said.

The young witch coughed as a cover, stealing the seconds to compose herself. Few moments ago, she had gotten the impression Haldir wouldn't drink what she gave him, so him asking the same thing this time surprised her. And he drank the water indeed.

"Thank you. I shall rest now, as I am very much tired."

"Of course, sure, yes," Hermione mumbled but Haldir had already closed his eyes.

Hermione skipped the noon meal to stay with Haldir, not that there was much to do for her in the camp. At the news of Haldir getting better, they had decided to stay where they were for today and continue in the morning.

The second time Haldir woke up close to noon, he absentmindedly wished to get up, seeing his struggle Hermione rushed to help him, and managed to steady him while sitting, his one arm around her shoulders and her holding him tight. She combusted with the hyper awareness of being so close to him, enclosed in his warmth and presence. This proximity made Hermione notice that he smelled of rain and earth, and faintly of sweat. Everything combined, this moment was overwhelming in a way she wished to it last a bit longer.

Suddenly, with a hiss that shook Hermione back to reality, Haldir's free hand went to his wound and Hermione saw a faint red stain on the bandages.

"Oh Merlin! Wait– your stitches didn't hold. Let me…"

She cursed at her inattentiveness. The man _\- elf -_ was wounded and she was thinking… Merlin!

It was time to pull herself together. Hermione took her wand and surprisingly her quick spells to renew his bandages were not disturbed. The first time she wanted to use her wand the Healer elf insisted her not to: he had been wary and skeptic, even a bit alarmed.

Perhaps because Haldir was slow due to his illness, or he couldn't move in shock, Hermione finished her spells. When she put back her wand their eyes locked again.

"I can use magic," Hermione answered his unasked question. "That's how I saved you in the battle."

"May I…?" he muttered in bewilderment, his hand hesitantly reaching to her wand-hand.

She procured her wand to him, and he hummed at taking it.

"A stick that helps you make magic?" The amusement in his voice was a bit derisive, but Hermione tried to ignore it. She had heard far worse from Malfoy. "It is not like famed Gandalf the Grey's staff."

He smiled again and gave back her wand, and his smile twinkled his eyes when she furrowed her brows.

"Well, I am not old enough to require a bloody walking stick, am I?" she grumbled, though his teasing felt good intended.

Her comment prompted Haldir to move his gaze up and down her body. He lingered on her bust and the gentle dip of her waist to her hips, and when he finally met her eyes again, his eyes had darkened visibly.

That moment passed in an instant, though, and Hermione doubted she interpreted his finally look correctly as the elf moved his head away. But she was not mistaken to his stray gaze, and the knowledge made the heat rise to her cheeks. If she were not holding to him so tightly and helping him, Hermione would have been fiddling with her fingers; assuming that she had not vanished behind a book and disconnected herself from his presence. (That tactic she had used on Victor Krum, she recalled amusedly)

Hermione felt the tickle of Haldir's hair as he turned back to her again. There was a new bright smile on his face, kindness in his eyes.

"Will you help me up? I wish to speak with Ialon and change the travelling arrangement."

Hermione nodded but couldn't help but ask, "I could call him here, if you'd like?"

"No, thank you. It is better that I walk."

Hermione helped Haldir stand up fully, and he leaned on her with his one arm again around her shoulders. He was taller than her, of course. But with his bulk, Hermione hadn't expected him to be taller more than a head over her. Disregarding choices that were either to gush at his height or be afraid he would tumble over her at a misbalance, Hermione reached around his waist to steady him, and after a few steps that Haldir walked in more confidence, Hermione loosened her hold but didn't remove her arm.

She and Haldir found Ialon. They talked in Elvish as always, so Hermione remained by Haldir's side. He held onto her surely, fingers flexing time to time to reposition his grip. Hermione said to herself that she didn't mind the gesture that could have been interpreted as...well, intimate. Not like she wasn't doing the same with her hand where her arm circled around his waist.

Nevertheless, Haldir didn't seem much troubled in health, but Hermione caught him wince now and again.

"My lady, thank you for your assistance," spoke Haldir all of a sudden. If not for the change in language, Hermione wouldn't have understood that she was addressed to. "I shall be fine on my own."

Hermione was disappointed of the dismissal, as it meant she was forced to leave Haldir's side.

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked rushedly. "Well, if you need anything I could—"

She stopped at seeing his genuine smile. "Thank you, but this is all."

Not wanting to embarrass herself with pressing further, Hermione nodded and went away. She could always read. It was better that Haldir was recovered, anyway.

And indeed Haldir was better as he had mounted up a horse (albeit gingerly) and rode on his own for the rest of the journey. Fortunately, the apprentice Healer attended Haldir more at the remaining of the journey as Hermione was finding harder to meet Haldir's eyes while she thought harder about her reaction towards him. This...attraction...of hers, seemed to come out of nowhere and it didn't make sense. For Ron, it was their friendship that she had based a possibility of a romantic relationship. Hell, even with Victor Krum, she had liked his attentiveness and care. Those two boys, and more that came after (a few dates here and there) were always nice first, as a character, only after that impression had Hermione ever thought they had been easy on the eye.

For Haldir, she was strongly drawn to his looks, posture, and well, presence.

If it was only this realization, Hermione Granger could have lived with admitting that she found a handsome man _irresistible_. However, the few exchanges she had with Haldir added more to his description list: kind in his way of speech, sincere with his thoughts, merry around his kin, advised and poised to the unexpected… Haldir was full of surprises, too. The way his eyes shone with fascination upon assessing her... Godric, Hermione remembered well his wandering gaze of her form. Recalling that, she could also say he was _expressive_.

Yes, better not think about those.

As a result, Hermione was now occupied with reading and reading only, except the occasional few questions to strike up a conversation with Ialon (never really worked much).

Determinedly, she would wait till her crush eased and disappeared.

Futile it was that Hermione noticed the few times Haldir turned back to look at her. His attention didn't make sense as he never fell back to talk, but Hermione felt the pounding of her heart all the same. He smiled and slightly bowed his head when their gazes locked, and she replied with a small smile (chastising herself afterwards).

That's how the remaining of their journey was spent.

* * *

Haldir was the one to explain Hermione that the meager conversation on the Elves' part during the journey was due to Common Tongue being not so ..._common_ among them. At least the lot that accompanied them didn't know the language.

Knowing that, Hermione didn't expect much welcoming in Lothlorien in words. She, however, appreciated the warm smiles and respectful bows upon her arrival.

Haldir, of course, translated a few kind words at first, but then he was occupied with relaying the news from the South.

That first evening they arrived after she had retreated to a guest bedroom, Haldir eventually found her to give her a bit of news as well.

"I've learned that you are seeking counsel with our beloved Lady Galadriel. She is unfortunately elsewhere at the moment, Lady Hermione." Haldir's eyes reflected sadness for her. It was mesmerizing to see him so expressive and in sympathy with her. Hermione blushed at that thought.

"When can I see her then?"

"I do not know. She and Gandalf the Grey are both occupied with the brewing war."

At the mention of the war, Hermione's heart skipped a beat. She had to get away from here. Return to her own world and leave the events here untouched.

Looking to Haldir's handsome face, Hermione was reminded the life she saved. Yes, his life was cut short in the original story; he deserved a second chance, but at what cost? Hermione wondered.

"I realise you are anxious about the battle that is soon to come," Haldir spoke again. His voice awoke Hermione from her thoughts and she was once more aware that she was in Haldir's presence. "Hard days are close now, however all of us will help to conquer the Dark Lord."

Hermione gasped, having forgotten how people here spoke of Sauron. The eerie sameness of Voldemort's name shot a shiver down her spine.

Haldir continued. "You may stay here, and be safe in our forest."

"What about you?" Hermione said immediately. He talked as though he would go and… join the fight? Haldir's addition to the plot could very well change everything. Okay, maybe not everything, but who knows what would help Sauron achieve victory? Maybe Aragorn would take an arrow that could be aimed at Haldir while they battled side by side, and the future king would be dead just like that.

"Gondor's threat remains, and our kin staying in Rohan will need support. We shall gather supplies and I will lead them South."

Hermione opened her mouth to object, but closed it, not knowing what to say to Haldir.

"As I said, you are welcome to stay until waters calm," Haldir added again.

Hermione was flummoxed, and indecisive on what to do. And Haldir was awaiting response, so she ended up giving a weak nod.

Haldir bowed his head and turned around.

"Haldir, wait!" Hermione grabbed him by the arm. Something flashed in his eyes, surprise, she guessed. "You were wounded. Isn't it safer to stand down from the battle?" She couldn't say that Aragorn and everybody else wouldn't _need_ him per se. But…

"No one will be safe if Sauron wins," Haldir said coldly. Perhaps this was the first time he looked at her as though she was alien.

"Haldir, I just…" Should she tell him about her world-travelling? About the risks of changing events in this epic tale?

Unable to find words, Hermione didn't notice Haldir softening his features. He understood the worry of the human girl. The young woman has also felt the attachment between the two.

In a daring move, Haldir rose his hands to put on her shoulders. That halted her anxiety.

Then, he moved his hands to her neck, not stopping, he rested them on the sides of her face.

"I am grateful for your protection the last time, and I can only make a promise to be more careful. However, I must fight alongside my kin."

His determination sparked stubbornness in Hermione. And his sudden show of affection brought an idea to the young witch. Maybe she could convince him by other means…?

For now, Hermione nodded. "Alright. Then promise to be careful."

Haldir smiled, his thumb brushed her cheek. "I promise."

"When will you leave?"

That question, the pleading in her eyes for him to not go, and perhaps how she bit her lip and slowly let it go, urged Haldir to take one more step to her. Then it was no telling who kissed whom first. Hermione registered his lips on her, his tongue tangling with her own, and she let out a deep sigh at how wonderful it felt.

One of his hands moved to her waist to pull her close. Hermione obliged by further melting her body against his, her arms swung over his shoulders and her hands in his hair. She marvelled at the feel of a man's embrace, Haldir's strong presence and masculine smell were making Hermione intoxicated.

As their kiss deepened, the burning that traveled from her head to toe concentrated on her lower abdomen. Another pressing sensation was the tingling in her sex that made Hermione painfully aware that she would not be ignoring her need tonight. With or without Haldir's help.

Suddenly, Haldir broke the kiss.

Hermione didn't understand at first. Her hands remained in the empty air and her front felt cool because of his lack of presence. She blinked, wanting to know what was happening. _What…?_

"My apologies." Haldir murmured. He looked away but Hermione could see his profile with the help of the faint moonlight coming from the window. He was disgruntled. "This is not something you wish. I have made you uncomfortable, for that I am in deep sorrow."

"Something _I_ don't wish?" Words usually never failed

Hermione Granger. They didn't disappoint. "What are you talking about? You can't tell me what or what not _I wish_; and, if you weren't paying attention, I was kissing you _back_."

Haldir's eyes popped open, but he immediately marred his brows. "You misunderstood me–"

Hermione wanted to slap his head to bring some sense to him. Why wasn't he listening to her?

"Menkind are not adept at the pleasures of the skin. For a moment, it escaped my mind that such an open invitation would be an insult. I had not come to your room to… Well, I hope you can forgive me."

Hermione took a hesitant step toward Haldir. He watched her with sharp eyes, alert at what could happen. Not like she would take out a knife to stab him– her intention had been clear, so Hermione had thought.

Awkwardly at first, she raised her hand, then reached to Haldir's chest. His eyes flickered to the movement of her fingers as she smoothed the wrinkles in his blue robes and gently shifted a few strands of his long blond hair behind his shoulder. When her hand ascended, his eyes found hers questioningly. She gently held his nape and guided his head down.

Their eyes never left the others', till it became too close and Hermione closed her eyes to capture his lips. This time she took her time to convince him that this was real. She wanted this. She wanted him.

His lips were soft. That was all she concentrated on during that dreadful moment he was unresponsive. Fortunately, his arms circled her before she lost all her courage. He sighed deeply into their kiss, content and accepting.

Hermione smiled in triumph. Her smile was wiped off when he licked her lips and once again she tasted him thoroughly.

Hooking her leg over his hip, Hermione gasped at his complimentary grip on her thigh to steady her. His other hand fell to her backside, and their kiss only resumed due to her clinging to his shoulders desperately. Then, Haldir picked Hermione up, his lips leaving her own in favour of tasting the skin of her neck.

Hermione moaned at his attention, but she surely wanted more. When he dropped her to the four-poster bed she had in this guest room, Hermione took the chance to remove her shirt. She had only unbuttoned her jeans when Haldir came into her view, bare-chested and bare overall.

Her breath hitched, and all she could think was how handsome he was. Was he even real? She indeed felt the warmth of his skin as he leaned over her, the strength of his muscles as she touched his arms and the sound of his breathless voice as he said, "Lady Hermione".

"Haldir!" Hermione still couldn't quite believe the name she muttered. "Will you…?"

It was a pointless utterance. She should have demanded Haldir to kiss her. It was the most inconceivable moment to be shy, with how she laid beneath the naked elf, herself in half-undone jeans and lacy bra.

"I will pleasure you," Haldir spoke against her skin, having buried his face to the crook of her neck. He pecked there, nibbled and bit between words. "I will touch you everywhere. Again and again."

His palm groped her breast over the bra. She whimpered, "Again?"

He looked at her and raised his brows. "If that is your desire."

She nodded, not taking her eyes off him. Curious, she moved her hands down his chest, feeling his tout muscles ripple under her touch. He was fit for his age. Remembering he was an elf, Hermione doubted him to be around early forties as he seemed.

His breath caught when she descended, not any clothing covering the curve of his abdominal muscles down to his hip and then to his erection. Holding him, thick, warm and pulsating, Hermione's heart beated faster in anticipation.

She slowly glided her palm over his cock, and it earned her a quick open-mouthed kiss. Then Haldir was struggling with her bra, unable to open it with a single hand most probably because he didn't even know where to unclasp it (or untie it, as he wouldn't know the modern garment).

Haldir huffed and opted to take out her breast, pulling her bra down enough.

"Wait, let me– _mmmnnh_!" She moaned at feeling his wet tongue on her nipple and after a lick, his mouth covered to suckle it.

Her hands now on his back, Hermione encouraged him as Haldir took his sweet time with both of her breasts.

Aware that her jeans and knickers were not yet discarded, it annoyed Hermione that her wetness was untouched and there was not enough friction.

"Please, Haldir, just a moment, let me–"

Haldir left her nipple with a _pop_, and rose to his knees. Hermione first got off her bra. It was easier said than done with how flustered she was. Then came the harder task that was her jeans. She had to wriggle out under Haldir and stand up off the bed to get out of her jeans.

Tossing them to the side, she raised her head just in time to see Haldir appreciate her body. His eyes were dilated and his cock jutted out proudly. He came closer on the bed, still on his knees, and pulled her by her waist. Both of his hands were on her arse cheeks, squeezing and feeling them.

"You are truly beautiful, Hermione. It is the shine of stars I see in your eyes, and you, my dear, are a beauty moon seeks to bathe in its light as it does now."

Heartfelt compliments that fell from his lips were spoken soft and burned her face upon witnessing his honesty. Rare though it was, Hermione fell short of words, and instead, craned her neck to give him a thorough kiss to show her appreciation.

His hands on her naked skin were naughty and full of life, and Hermione knew not an inch of her that was left untouched. However, she whined for one thing and one thing only.

"Haldir!" she moaned between kisses. Torturously aware that his member pressed to her abdomen, wanting attention, while her cunt dripped by her thighs. "Take me!"

Hermione didn't have to say it again, as Haldir swiftly pulled her off her feet to fall back to the bed, and propped one arm to lay over her himself, his long blonde hair draping over her like a curtain.

Next, fingers were exploring her wetness. She gasped upon a single digit entering inside her. It moved, wiggled and stroked, and was joined by another, then one more and those long fingers were curling inside her when the thumb brushed her clit. Hermione panted, feeling Haldir's stray kisses over her collar bones, already feeling the tension build exponentially.

"Haldir, I'm close– so close! Please!" she whined in agony and pleasure both. She hadn't felt this way in months! Being single robbed one of such pleasures, obviously.

"Not yet, milady," Haldir spoke and his fingers were removed. "We shall find our pleasure together."

And true to his word, Haldir straightened. He stood by her knees, parted them, and situated his cock at her entrance. A thin sheen of sweat had appeared on his chest and arms, the moon lighting up the droplets and drawing Hermione's attention to Haldir's well-built muscles. The sweat also caused his long hair to stick to his shoulders and chest, and as an afterthought, Haldir tossed them over his shoulder under Hermione's scrutiny. His eyes were alight and watching like a hawk when her lustful brown gaze landed on his member.

He wanted her to watch them unite, and the desperate eagerness on her expression and sharp rise and fall of her round breasts only added to his pleasure.

Haldir reached over to flick her nipple, already pressing the tip of his cock on her entrance. "Milady, do you want this? Do you want _me_?"

Hermione whimpered at the question. Was it not obvious she was dying to have his cock piston in and out of her? Rough, slow or gentle didn't matter at the moment. She was capable of crying and throwing a tantrum because Haldir was denying –or prolonging giving– what she wanted.

"Haldir, I want you! I want you so much! Please. Please, fuck me!" Hermione missed the hungry glint in Haldir eyes especially at the last few words she said because that instance she screamed at having her walls stretched.

Haldir had pushed with a strong and quick thrust, and it stung, but Hermione felt the pain leave its place to pleasure as she felt _completed_. "Yes, yes, finally!"

He pulled back and thrusted again. Hermione was overwhelmed at finding Haldir so forceful in contrast to his kind nature till now, but Hermione realised this was what she needed. Having been left hanging the last time, the tension in her inner walls lept higher in no time.

Hermione hooked her ankles behind Haldir as he thrusted in and out, and held on to his back. He was buried in her neck, his breath warm in her ear as he grunted his ecstasy.

"More, yes, more! This...this is… oh fuck, yesss!" Hermione hissed at feeling her clit pinched. She was finding harder to breathe as Haldir circled the abused nub continuously to tip her off the edge.

Soon, Hermione broke apart and dug her nails at his back as she accepted the waves of pleasure. Her cry sparked stars behind her closed lids and Hermione felt a sudden surge of her magic join her release. She barely registered that a few thrusts later, Haldir grunted loudly and followed her into bliss.

In a tangle of limbs Hermione hummed a merry tune while drawing patterns on Haldir's shoulder. She kissed his temple, his hair, anywhere she could reach...and that included his pointy ears.

Merlin, it was easy to forget he was not a man.

Just as she was faintly following the pointy curve of his ear, Haldir propped up on his elbow. His hair was disheveled, face flushed and eyes sparkling.

"If you are unaware, you broke the vase, milady," Haldir said. His eyes amusedly darting to a single table under which the remains of a vase laid scattered. Hermione thought back to her climax, and realised in horror that she had done accidental magic. "After that, I shall never forget that you are magical: a witch."

Hermione blushed and tried to avert her gaze, but Haldir held her chin. She thought he would speak, but he gently pressed his lips to her own.

When he pulled back, Hermione used the chance to wave her hand and mutter, "_Reparo_."

After watching the vase mend itself, Haldir turned to her, awe and question in his eyes, but she halted his line of thought with a kiss. It was remarkably successful as she felt his member that was still inside her twitching back to life.

Hermione smiled to his lips. "Would you like to continue?"

Haldir lowered his nose to her brown curls and took a deep breath. "Nothing more that I would like to do."

"In that case," Hermione kissed him again. Only one more question she had to ask remained. She kissed him hungrily, declaring her want of him, and promises of how his time can be spent.

Then she pulled back. "Do you have to leave?" Hermione asked, her last hope of changing Haldir's mind depended on this moment. Intentionally after orgasm. "We could spend time like this. Together. Enjoying each other. You could get to know me as I would like to know you."

Hermione watched her words rage a war behind Haldir's clear green eyes. His recent euphoria battling his will and purpose in the matter of his land.

It was a losing battle, Hermione knew. Odds were against her.

"Milady, _Hermione_, I beg you not to leave me to choose." Haldir rasped, "I do not wish to upset the soul I hope to become familiar one day. However…"

Stricken as she was with his words, she couldn't help but feel an invisible hand suffocating her upon his admission. Hermione was alone in this strange, fantasy world, not knowing how to go back to England, basically trapped here! And her existence here was changing everything dramatically. What was the purpose of this mess, anyway?

She felt the distinct sting of unshed tears pricking her eyes. A gentle hand caught the first tear.

"Not like this, Hermione. I beg of you."

Looking at the man in front of her (the elf, she corrected, seeing his ears and blonde hair), Hermione didn't want to fight a battle (just this once!) and wished to be content in his embrace.

Life had never been that easy for Hermione Granger.

Screw it, she thought. Not like she knew how to get back to her own world.

Making sure Haldir didn't change anything major with the story while seeking the help of elder wizards to find a way back to her own world, Hermione would continue head on. And if Haldir became a threat to Frodo's quest, she would make sure the One Ring ended up in the lava of Mount Doom herself.

And if all failed, there were always parallels of universes, right? This one would happen to have her and Haldir in it.

"Alright. Think I never asked," Hermione whispered, looking intent back at Haldir. She kissed him deeply and wondered at the back of her mind how she could convince Haldir to take her to his journey. His previous insistence on how she could stay here safe reminded Hermione women were seen weak and incapable in this world, especially for _men business_ like war.

Deciding it would be better to outright ask, Hermione ended the kiss with a surprise flip. Although a trained soldier, a Warden in fact, Haldir had been caught off guard and Hermione was now straddling him.

The surprise has only encouraged the elf's member. Hermione could feel him inside her.

"How..." Hermione slowly thrusted her hips, feeling mischievous and quite sure that her little game can be won. "...can I convince you to take me to this journey of yours? I don't want to stay here while you are away."

_...off to war_, her mind added.

Haldir's eyes flashed with carnal intuition at what she laid on the table, but his mind catching up with her request contorted his features into mild annoyance.

"The journey to war is no place for a woman. An untrained one, I should add."

Quarrel it was, they had decided. Hermione didn't mind. Rolling her hips and playing with his hard cock, she was confident she could humour Haldir and convince him by dawn.

A bit of spice never hurt nobody in the end.

* * *

**Hello!**

**I hope you enjoyed this short story. Please excuse any mistakes (all mine). **

**For those of you who know I froze all my WIPs, sadly there is no change there. This one-shot idea came to me and I wrote it and thought, maybe there can be others who would like to enjoy the story, so I decided publishing wouldn't hurt. Better than for it to dust over a shelf (proverbially) :D**

**Love you all, keep well and safe :)**

**Ydream08**


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